A Little Too Late
by ElisabethCarter
Summary: Daphne is pretty used to getting captured by villains and creeps, but she knows Fred will always save the day. What happens when one bad guy goes too far? Will Fred find her in time? Read and find out! Please review when you're done reading this.


I was in a dark space, surrounded by nothing but silence. My head spun slightly as I regained consciousness and attempted to recall what was happening. After a minute or two of difficult thought, I remembered how I had come to be in this situation.

I had been kidnapped by one of the creeps we were chasing. This sort of thing happened a lot. There was a reason that I was called "Danger-Prone Daphne." I always ended up being taken hostage by the criminals we investigate.

This case was a particularly nasty one. A man disguised as his father's ghost had been murdering people who were involved in his father's untimely death. We had been about to expose this villain when he grabbed onto me and the two of us fell down a trap door. Based on the bruise I felt forming on the back of my skull, I was pretty sure he hit me over the head with something in order to knock me out.

I attempted to move around. This action proved to be impossible, for ropes bound my hands and feet together. I also came to realize that a piece of cloth had been tied across my mouth, preventing me from speaking or screaming.

Had I been able to, I would have sighed at the monotony of it all. This whole concept had become worn out. I had been abducted countless times, each captor more crazed than the last, and although the fear that ran through me was extreme, I always knew that Freddie would come to save me.

So there I sat, bored and waiting. I was so sure that my knight in shining armor would burst into the scene at any moment, opening up the closet door (for I assumed that I had been locked in some sort of closet or storage space) and freeing me. We would then share a brief moment before running out of that place.

That's how it always happened. There was no doubt in my mind that this time would be any different.

How wrong I was.

I curled myself up into a little ball and rested my head against one of the closet's walls. This position was comfortable enough, so I decided to get a little sleep until the gang came to save me. As my eyelids grew heavy and my mind became less aware, I heard a sound. This small noise startled me out of my tired stupor.

It was the sound of a gun being cocked and ready to shoot.

My eyes frantically searched for a way out as my heartbeat and breathing sped up so rapidly that I thought I would have a panic attack. My idea of the perfect escape shattered to pieces. This was not our ordinary adversary. No, this man was homicidal. He intended to kill me.

Naturally, I began to freak out. Tears slowly rolled down my cheeks, getting absorbed by the rag that prevented my speech. I struggled to loosen my bonds, but the knots were tight and unbreakable. I squirmed and cried and prayed for a way out of this mess. No one wants to die, especially not me. I had my whole life ahead of me. I had dreams and plans to fulfill. I did not want to die yet. I still had to tell Fred how I felt about him. I hadn't gotten to say goodbye to my parents or to any of my friends. I refused to believe that this would be the end for me.

The closet door swung open. For a moment, I dared to believe that it was Fred coming to rescue me. It wasn't. Instead, there was the silhouetted image of Peter Sinclair, the crook who had captured me. He grabbed me roughly by the arm and dragged me out of the closet and into a dimly lit room.

"Those bastards who killed my father were the only ones that needed to die," he said in a low, intense voice. "But you and your friends just _had _to get in the way. And now you know who I am, so I'm going to have to kill you and the rest of your little group." He paused for a moment and chuckled lightly. "This just proves that this world is no place for meddling kids."

Tears were coming hot and fast from my eyes, my sobbing hindered by the gag in my mouth. I silently begged Freddie to hurry up and find me. I needed him there.

Then, the doorknob began to rattle. Someone was trying to get it, but the door was locked. This distracted Sinclair momentarily, but he soon regained focus. He pointed the gun at me, preparing to shoot, his finger on the trigger.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Sinclair was startled enough that when he took the shot, he hit my stomach rather than my head.

I felt a terrible pain as a warm pool of blood began to cover my abdomen. I rested my head against the floor as I found it increasingly difficult to breathe. I simply could not get enough air. My tears did not come as rapidly as they had before, as I did not have enough energy left to produce them.

Meanwhile, I heard the scuffling of feet as a tall blonde boy, who I immediately recognized as Freddie, wrestled with Sinclair in an attempt to get the gun. Another shot was fired during this fight, though it appeared to be accidental. I felt sudden panic as I considered the possibility that Fred had been hit, though it soon became evident that Sinclair was the one who was injured.

Fred then rushed over to me, his eyes red as tears stained his cheeks. He lifted my head onto his lap and began to stroke my hair. In the background, I could hear Shaggy calling an ambulance to come for me, but I doubted that it would be here in time. I could barely breathe, and black spots were beginning to impede my vision. I smiled up at Fred as he took my hands in his.

"Daph," he said softly to me. "Everything's going to be alright. We'll get you to the hospital and you'll be fine. Everything will be alright." I could tell that he was having a hard time remaining positive.

I simply shook my head. By now my crying had almost completely vanished. I realized what was going to happen. "Tell my parents that I'm sorry and I love them," I whispered, finding speaking to be even more difficult than breathing.

"Daphne," Fred said sternly. "Don't talk like that. Don't you dare say that. You're going to be fine." He was crying harder now, a sight which may be the saddest thing I've ever seen. Fred, the strong, unbreakable one, was weeping by my side.

I took a shaky breath. I knew this would be my last chance to ever tell him how I felt. "Fred, I love you." I wanted to tell him how I'd loved him since we'd first met. I needed to let him know that he was my reason for everything. He meant more to me than anything else in the world. I wanted to inform him of how he brightened my day by just smiling at me. I needed him to know how much he meant to me, but I simply could not speak. My breaths were short and quick, each one more difficult than the last.

"I love you too," he replied between sobs. He bent his head down and kissed me gently and briefly. "I'll always love you." After a moment, he added, "None of this would've happened if I had been here a little bit earlier. I was just too late. I could've saved you, but I came too late."

I squeezed his hand in mine. "Fred, it's not your fault, and don't ever let anyone tell you differently." I couldn't breathe anymore. My lungs had failed me. The blackness that impeded my vision now multiplied, covering everything with its dark blanket. I felt all the pain and despair leave me. Distantly, I could hear the tortured voice of Fred crying, "No!" He knew that I was gone, and he hadn't wanted that. But now I'm at peace, and although I'll miss my friends dearly, I know I'll still be in their hearts, just as they are in mine.

* * *

This is sadder than most of my other stories, and I've had this idea for a while now, so I thought I'd write it down and share it with all of you. Please let me know what you think of it!


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